


Napkin Dispenser Suprise

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [125]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Diners, F/M, Flirting, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 16:51:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12461901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: Caroline's shift at the diner is slow but she's a little worried about the guy guzzling coffee.





	Napkin Dispenser Suprise

**Napkin Dispenser Surprise**

**(Prompt: "This is the tenth time you've asked for a refill are you ok" AU. Rated K+. Title from "A New Name For Anything" by The Weakerthans.)**

Caroline tosses her notepad down on the chipped countertop before setting her hands on her hips. She arches backwards, careful not to let out any embarrassing noises when she feels the stretch, in an attempt to alleviate some of the soreness that's built up. She really shouldn't have offered to cover Bonnie's night shift. She works 8-4 weekdays answering phones, every weekend at a high end boutique, and picks up whatever hours she can squeeze in here at the diner. Her band's been tossing around the possibility of a tour and Caroline's determined to do her part to scrape together the money to fund it.

So what if it's her twelfth working day in a row? Money was money.

Enzo's busy cleaning out the bakery case, and if he knows what's good for him he'd better not be throwing out any slightly old but still perfectly good cupcakes. He sets the chocolate ones aside under her pointed gaze and Caroline nods in satisfaction. "You okay?" he asks He's probably concerned abou the truly gross cracks and pops her spine is making. Enzo's a good friend.

And he needed her to sing tomorrow.

She grabs one of the stools, rationalizing that it's 11 PM at a place that specializes in breakfast and no one will ever know about her little unscheduled break. The place is mostly empty anyway. There's a young couple playing footsie a little farther down the counter, an older guy with a laptop, a notebook, and a ridiculous number of pens set up in a table in the corner. Then there's the occupant of the booth along the back wall who'd just finished up his  _ninth_  cup of coffee.

Seriously. It just wasn't healthy.

Casting a glance over her shoulder Caroline leans in, lowering her voice, "I think I need to cut the guy at table seven off."

Caroline had been expecting incredulity and Enzo doesn't disappoint. He crosses his arms and leans a hip on his side of the counter, enunciating slowly in condescending manner that has Caroline vowing revenge, "This is a  _diner_ , Gorgeous. Not a bar. We don't cut people off."

Luckily, she'd prepared an argument already. "Well we should. What if he OD's on caffeine, huh? I'm sure that's possible. Then it's lawsuit city and we can't afford that, Enzo."

Enzo squints, clearly skeptical, " _I'm_  not certain it's possible."

"It's a stimulant, isn't it? It must be possible to OD."

"Is he twitchy? Talking too fast? Does he seem confused? Is he sweaty looking?"

Grudgingly, Caroline can admit he seems perfectly normal. He's polite when she stops by, though he usually appears absorbed in his task. He's been methodically shredding the napkins at his table, folding them into a steadily growing sculpture bolstered by sugar packets and tiny plastic creamer cups. Enzo reads it on her face easily, damn him. "What is it that you always say to me when I question your definition of a 'slice' of pie? Something about not judging, if I recall correctly. Perhaps you should take your own advice?"

He ducks back into the kitchen, the door swinging behind him, and Caroline allows herself to make a not so mature face at his retreating back. Ugh, he was annoying. She was from the  _south_. Generous helpings of pie were how she was raised, damn it.

Swivelling to check on her customer she finds him with his head bent low, intent on the mess on his table. She knows she should just do her job and pour his coffee with a smile (she'd sized him up when he came in, was fairly certain he'd be a good tipper) and without commentary.

But she's not going to.

Caroline's never been short of opinions and is rarely shy about sharing them. It's a flaw but she figures it's pretty ingrained at this point. She can play the sympathetic waitress, figure out what the guy's problem was, make sure he didn't die tragically via caffeine poisoning. It would be her good deed for the day.

With her mind made up Caroline strides briskly to the coffee pots she grabs one that's half full and snags the platter of cupcakes for good measure. He glances up, a small smile curving his (very nice, she can't help but note) lips. He blinks in surprise when she slides into the booth opposite him but he doesn't object. She gives him her very best customer service smile and keeps the coffee on her side, "Listen, I'm not having anyone die a coffee related death on my watch. I'm so not good at managing guilt. Can I convince you to switch to decaf?"

She holds her breath, hopes he doesn't immediately puff up in outrage (some men were douchebags like that. They seemed perfectly normal but went full psycho at the slightest hint of a challenge). She relaxes when he seems more amused than offended, "Afraid not. Can't stand the stuff."

Caroline nudges the cupcakes in his direction, "I figured. Have a cupcake then. On me. Well, kind of. They're about a half hour away from having to be tossed and it would be a shame for them to go to waste."

He shifts back, a smile growing, and sets his forearms on the table, "Are you trying to poison me? First decaf now nearly expired baked goods?"

"Only nearly expired according to the super strict health code. Normal people don't eat all the cupcakes they bake in one day, do they?"

He doesn't miss a beat, something Caroline can appreciate. "I'm sure some do. If gluttony's their deadly sin of choice."

Caroline bites her tongue before she can make a comment about how there are certain days of the month where she'd probably kill someone for a good bar of dark chocolate. That was neither professional nor something a stranger needed to know about her uterus. Instead she shrugs, "It's not the worst one, is it? A glutton's only hurting themselves."

His head dips and he reaches for a cupcake. "Touché. Thank you, Jessica."

It takes her a second to realize he's talking to her. "Oh, it's Caroline," she tells him.

His brows furrow and he glances pointedly at her name tag. Caroline waves a hand, "There's like ten badges in the back. All the most popular girl's names of the 1990's. I was Amanda the last time I worked. It keeps the creeps at bay, stops them from being able to track us down online."

"I like Caroline better."

Huh. She hadn't expected to be charmed when she'd sat down. Caroline thought herself mostly immune to accents, she talked to Enzo all the time so the novelty had worn off. But this guy's voice was kind of doing it for her.

Before she can think of a response he continues, "I'm Klaus. Niklaus, if you'd like to be formal or stalk me on social media. Last name Mikaelson. With a 'k'."

She finds herself laughing, "Careful, Klaus. That kinda sounds like an invitation."

He's taken a bite of cake, keeps his eyes on her face as he chews and swallows. It's snowing outside so there's no reason for Caroline to feel warm but she definitely does. Once his mouth is empty he speaks, the words doing nothing to help her temperature situation, "That's because it was, love."

"Wow," Caroline blurts out. "I've been hit on by a lot of customers but that was actually pretty smooth."

He seems pleased, tears off another piece of cupcake and lifts a brow in question, "Does that mean I've a chance at success?"

Instead of answering the question Caroline busies herself with the coffee, strives to keep from letting her face give anything away. She might be blushing a little but hopefully he'll chalk that up to work related exertion. "So why the coffee binge?" she prompts. "Work deadline? Personal life implosion?"

She's shamelessly fishing and she wouldn't blame him at all if he called her on it. There's a knowing glint in his eye but he lets it slide, launching into a story about a commission he'd just finished that he absolutely loathes. Finding out he's an artist makes her examine his sculpture more closely and she thinks she sees the beginnings of a horse.

Which, considering the raw materials, meant he was probably actually talented.

If he asks for her number she'll give him the real one, Caroline decides. Until then there's no reason she should be the only one sweating.


End file.
